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Saturday, February 28, 2015

Clubbin' Like a Mormon

I used to love to dance and club in college and even a little after college.  The former husband and I danced a time or two in our dating period and really enjoyed dancing at the few weddings we attended.  Once kids and more kids arrived, the dancing dwindled...and stopped.  I didn't realize how much I missed it.  But I never felt the impulse to get out of the house or step away from the kids and go "clubbing" with girlfriends.  I had a lot of acquaintances who did it.  I'd follow their posts of the events on Facebook and be thankful that my natural tendency at that time was to hunker down around the hearth.

Then my marriage ended....  So did some hearth time.  I still light a fire and curl up with a book or the laptop, but too much hearth time...right now anyway.. a bit painful.  I remembered some of the most passionate and amazing men in my life found me on a dance floor.

I would describe myself as an 'Outgoing Introvert'.  I am sufficiently introverted enough and sometimes I have to force myself to go out and mingle and converse with new people.  But once I do go, I usually make a great time for myself.

Through a friend of a friend I launched myself into the LDS mid-singles crowd. This is generally SLCs 31-45 rapidly expanding single Mormon social niche.   Some people here are devout Mormons, some are loosey-goosey about it all as reflected in their drinking status and attire. All of them are super welcoming and nice.  Last night I was invited to hit a SLC dance club with a group of them.

What in hell-fire does a middle age single Mormon woman desiring to be modest wear to such a thing?!?

I have two words - LACE... and wait for it...WAIT for it.... CAMO.

 I mostly wanted to build my outfit around this insane pair of lace heels I picked up for the last social gig I went to.  And maybe something to match the purple nail polish I'm wearing this week.  I've never been one to consistently paint my nails, but since moving from rural Vermont to SLC, I guess I've become more urbanized.  I pretty much have colored outside the lines my whole life - no knack for fine motor skills - This is a problem when one likes to wear black, purple or gray on her nails.  I've never had patience to paint my own nails and usually splurge on the infrequent manicure.  As a teen, I would have rather hopped on my bike or grabbed my skis when my friends were likely learning the craft.  I got brave and more patient this week and started doing my own for the first time.  Bravery + patience = results.  Ahem..Not only with nail polish.  I'm now a big girl who can color inside the lines.

So what does a hippy / conservative / slightly tacky Mormon girl from Vermont do when the only KNOWNS of the evening are a pair of white lace heels and purple nail polish and a mission to dress modestly but still fake people out into thinking she's cool?  You stinkin' GUESSED IT!  She hawks CAMO Capri pants.

 


Then I tossed on whatever clean long sleeved T-shirt I could find.  Ironed it for like 6 seconds, and boom, I had an outfit.  I felt like an elegant misfit.  Elegant only because of the shoes and nailpoish.  And maybe because the camo pants were actually Donna Karan ($30).  I should be a friggin' fashion blogger.  Don't worry, I won't quit my day job.

So with some fervent FB texting with some new girlfriends prior to going...about attire and coordinating arrival time for our safety - some of us were arriving close to 11pm - I walked into this place alone after all.  (my thoughts as I pulled up and walked in..."GAWsh, what was I thinking?  Maybe it's not too late to back out?  Does it smell smokey?  If it does, I'm bailing.  Yuck, what have I signed up for? Listen to THAT music?  I can't dance to this! Wait, is this a bar? I don't even drink!)

The girl at reception asks for my ID.  REEEAALLY?!?   I'm starting to like it here.  Maybe I will stay.  The staff seems really nice and smart. Maybe the camo, lace and purple threw her off.

I walk in, find my friends who I've known for about 5 minutes and they introduce me to some new ones.  I dance one song with a mere head bob while I still contemplate an escape and check my watch as well as a very scantily clad woman who is owning the dance floor.  Her heiny was also totally hanging out of her dress.  A survey of the scene made me grateful for dress standards and gratitude that I enjoy wearing clothes - including sleeves.  A new male friend catches me plotting an escape and suggests confidence is all that's needed to loosen up and bust a move.  Was that what I think it was???  A CHALLENGE? To a woman who shoes up in lace heels and camo capris?  What went through my mind was this....



Then I see it... a PLATFORM designed for the Uber confident.  I grab the wrist of one of my new friends. We climb onto it.  We are in the air.  We never leave the sky.   I gave myself a curfew of 12am.  I stayed until 1.  The same male who upon my arrival suggested all I needed was some confidence, found himself calling me a 'freak' on the dance floor 30 minutes later.  And that he liked it.  Mission accomplished.

Uptown Funk was the smash hit of the night, bringing out even the most reclusive souls onto the floor.  I have a soft spot in my heart for that hyper-annoying song.   The music was awesome.  I had a blast.



Ciao!

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Derivatives, Barbecue Sauce and Mozzarella


If you come here seeking professional grade photos and a gourmet recipe for pizza bagels you will be severely disappointed and you should seek entertainment elsewhere today.  If we share a dry sense of humor with hidden meanings in things, you might be entertained for a few minutes.

Three years ago, I was approached to contribute for compensation to a magazine based in the Pacific northwest on Dutch oven cooking. I chuckled when I read the invite because it was based on my previous posts on a lazy dutch oven pudding cake and some other open fire pit cooking with cast iron. You would chuckle too,  if you read the posts that elicited the invite. 

"Someone is wiling to pay me for this stuff that I call a coping mechanism?!?! SWEET!! " 
(envision my head tipped back in the kind of deep-belly laughter that makes your face hurt) 

 I would have loved to do it, but they had a problem that I would be a regular contributer to a magazine that championed Pacific Northwest things and I lived in rural Vermont. Also, the photo specs required a camera more sophisticated than my iPhone to conform into their online and hard copy publication. Although a tempting invitation for extra cash to do something really fun - dutch oven open fire pit cooking!! - I didn't want to make the investment in a camera for this purpose at that time. And would they ultimately require me to move to Oregon?

Shortly after this, I was invited to contribute to a popular homeschooling blog. The owner gave me a few parameters and a deadline. I was so excited.  I really let my creativity fly.  The topic was - what led me to homeschool - something I have a lot of passion about. I may or may not have weaved into it an important religious conversion story that is ultimately connected to my decision to home school. Ironically yet predictably, the article was rejected and she wanted me to take another go at it but with "less of me" revealed. After I emerged from the fetal position under the bed sheets, I expressed to my imaginary friend: 

"Wait a cotton-picking second!! She INVITED ME! ~And then rejected me...(sniffle)"

I took a couple days to ponder her offer to rewrite to conform to her reader culture and politely declined. I had spent a career with banks and  Wall Street firms using business writing in boiler-plate form to cover my heiny, the firms' heinies I worked for - always running it by legal before sending. Having just orchestrated for myself a major career change from WallStreet  to midwife to allow more of my natural nurturing self to be expressed than the days when I wore Ann Taylor power suits and heels - I was  not about to conform to anything. It was almost like the universe was testing my resolve to stay the course on finding myself.

This is a time in my life to exercise more of ME.... in every single thing I do. There is no budget for a legal department right now.

Okay, maybe there is a guy in a back office somewhere in the recesses of my brain who looks at things after they're already submitted and makes irrelevant suggestions. He knows he'll be fired if he asserts too much rigidity.  In my imagination, I hired him from Apple, where the culture to innovate and create is based in never letting shame or fear be allowed floor time. 

Somewhere out there exists a publication who is willing to pay money for me to write just as I do because it's a perfect fit for their mission and audience. 

 ...I just realized that all of this is a metaphor for dating and marriage... 





I can read your mind.  WHAT THE BLEEP does any of this have to do with barbecue sauce mozzarella cheese. Absolutely nothing (laughing...)  or I'll let you find the irony and your own deeper meaning in it all.  Hint: always add sugar to your recipes



Enjoy my iPhone photo of my latest kitchen and taste bud obsession: Finding as many ways to pair mozzarella cheese and barbecue sauce as I can. It started as a derivative to pizza bagels. 



Big hit with the little people I cohabitate with. Things I would add to this are sautéed purple onions and chicken pieces soaked in the barbecue sauce. 

Ciao. 

Monday, February 9, 2015

Shoes, pink flags, silver linings and alter boys


Jumping to this past Sunday's third hour at church.  It was warm and sunny and I am in a season of my life where sometimes my toddler son doesn't quite make it through third hour ~ I get to walk him around in a buggie outside until he drifts asleep.  I usually don't have any difficulty finding female companions to join me on nice days!  


My ward family really feels like family.  Here I've found the most beautiful, articulate successful and happy women, men and families I've ever known.  They are a people filled with humility and love for one another and the Savior.    

This particular Sunday, I sat with one of my friends and neighbors I had not seen in weeks.  It was so good to reconnect!  She's a stunning blonde, as tall and beautiful as a runway model with a sense of humor to boot.   She spent a great deal of time on the east coast like me, takes her skiing seriously, and is a serious equestrian-aficionado as I was once.  We can bond.  

I caught her up on my first toe-dipping into middle-aged dating.  Gushing in nostalgia over twenty-something dating and comparing/contrasting the differences, we had some giggles then the conversation turned to shoes. Then back to men.  We talked about how women want just the right amount of naughty and nice.  Don't we all want the bad boy and the alter boy?  Or is that just me?  

She talked some about red flags I should be on the lookout for during dating.  Not wanting to be too harsh or take things too seriously, I renamed them "pink flags".  Not quite red or orange. But maybe a little pink.  A pink flag is like DEFCON 4.  DEFCON is the United States Armed Forces alert-readiness system.   






DEFCON 5 - Least Severe. Low defensive readiness level. 


DEFCON 1 - Most Severe - Highest form of alert-readiness from defense system. Basically under attack.

Many people coming out of
a marriage or serious relationship probably enter dating at DEFCON 1 or at best DEFCON 2 and maybe stay there indefinitely then try and fail to find new connections over and over.  I'm not quite sure what my DEFCON level is.  I think it's blinking and malfunctioning at the moment.  Needs re-calibrating.   Maybe I ought to hold off on dating until I'm clear what my DEFCON status is..
 ~ then find someone at the same level.  

My friend also recommended watching the movie Silver Linings Playbook.  My first response was "I think it's rated R.  Can I watch it on a Sunday?"   I agreed to send her text play-by-plays of my thoughts on the movie as I watched it.  Oh my heck!  It - was - stinkin' - hilarious.   Someone smarter than me put together a number of the bestest scenes from the film.  I attached the 10 minute clip for you below (WARNING - there are tons of potty-mouth words in here.  This clip is at least PG-13).

Silver Linings Playbook is a story of two broken souls in or coming out of grief and navigating a new friendship / relationship.  The film makers exaggerate the typical female and male dynamics and add a whole lot of clinical crazy complete with PTSD, anxiety, OCD and the meds and even an institution related to all of this for effect.   The ending turns out happy (and stable) for the protagonist and the two crazies seem to be oddly good together as they find their way back to sanity together.  



Jennifer Lawrence won an Oscar for her role in this film.  



Ciao!



John Wooden and his "Woodenisms"

I was moved and softened even more in church today.  If I soften any more, I'm going to be a stick of butter tossed in the microwave accidentally for a whole minute.

Church today made me realize how many different things are currently occupying real estate in my mind.  My mind right now reminds me of my favorite playlist...it contains everything from Tupac to Ellie Goulding, Ella Fitzgerald and Metallica.  It's Christian yet hard core, yet sexy with a little bit of 40s weaved in.  My mind has just as much diverse noise in it as I undergo a major emergence and reorg... I think it is because I am on the verge of creating or manifesting something amazing.  Have you ever felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you are in the middle of a thunderstorm right before lightening strikes?  This is the place I occupy right now.  I'm excited.  And maybe a little nervous.  But mostly excited.

Good things take time, as they should. We shouldn’t expect good things to happen overnight. Actually, getting something too easily or too soon can cheapen the outcome.  John Wooden


The 16 year old son of a friend of mine gave a talk today on Preparedness -  loved it.  Then another man spoke on -  I'm not sure what topic - but he successfully managed to weave pottery, basketball and sushi together in the talk; the basketball element of the talk caused a shake down of my synapses.

For you guys, John Wooden - duh.... For gal pals reading this, a primer on John Wooden...

John Wooden, named NCAA coach of the year won ten national championships including an unprecedented seven in a row.  When a man successful like this throws words around (I'm a sucker for words), I'm interested in what he has to say!  Here are some of my favorite "Woodenisms"



Just getting warmed up with some lay-ups...

Here is a derivative of the one quoted in the talk I heard today.  




This great man had a relationship with Jesus Christ.


YES!  Like Meg Ryan, When Harry Met Sally - diner scene, "Yes"...  because then you can make up. I'd like someone smart to argue with me.  just a little.   Outside of romantic relationships, I suppose this is really important in work relationships, coaching relationships, teaching and mentoring.... critical for creativity and freedom of expression to be present.  






Living that one above every single day...

I love this one above. 


This above for the people-turned-family in my community who have taken me in as one of their own, even though I feel like I rolled into town Mach 2 last summer with my hair on fire... They have taught me so much about love and service, kindness, humility, success and family, friendship and FUN!  



I get to do this every single day!


yup.



double yup. 


Ciao!






Friday, February 6, 2015

Vulnerability and It's Darker Twin ~ Self-Hatred

Seeing other people read, relate to and feel entertained by what I write creates a euphoric state in me that lasts a few minutes but no more than a few hours.  It is interesting that ALWAYS what follows this is a few hours to a few DAYS of critical self-loathing and self-hatred that becomes almost unbearable.  It's so predictable.  So much so, that hitting the "publish" button or pushing my vulnerable side to friends, family and strangers on Facebook haunts me every time because I know what ensues after the fun of seeing my work be read by hundreds of people (blog stats suggest hundreds of people are reading some of the goofy tales I weave) is a really dark period of self deprecation and silence and inner turmoil.  What does this MEAN?

What is the relationship between vulnerability and self-hatred?  Is self-loathing part of the human experience?  Do I ever turn self-hate into self-sabotage?  Most important of all as I embark on a new future, am I sabotaging my own intimate relationships or potential ones? As I am in the midst of self-hatred RIGHT NOW since I floated a couple vulnerable posts the last few days, I decided rather than curl up in the fetal position as per usual, I'd get back in the saddle and dive into this topic and see if I can curb the demon by actually giving it what "it" doesn't want ~ writing more.  {insert getting out of fetal position}

I loathe consuming soda.  But in my weaker moments I may or may not pour an elixir of Coke and Diet Coke in a tall glass with a straw.  




Does art often include elements of doubt?  Does the creative process always involve a degree of self-hatred demons?  I was curious so I started to explore a little in this area.  Try googling self-hatred and vulnerability and you will find a plethora of entertaining articles referencing heroes such as Jane Austen to Elizabeth Gilbert to Brene Brown.  Men are not immune.   


I daydream that the authors and artists of the best works I admire struggle with self-hatred also.  Did they ever get on top of it?  Or, is it like laboring in childbirth, a pain we have to just allow to be there, stay present with, and let it ride and wash over us while getting out of its way and wait for it to pass on its own?  Does it ever accomplish anything such as greater creativity or is its only service to self-destruct our insides?  Most on my mind, does it affect our relationships with others?  

You want a visual on extreme thumb-sucking, fetal position crazies?  ......I once had a political blog.  Now, that sent me over the top every-single-time-I published... I'll plug the link below.  It's ancient; I can't even remember which email and password address it's associated with to harness it into my current Google fold and give it the rightful death of deletion it deserves.. So it sits dormant in the Blogger cemetery of inactive blogs.  But you might get a kick out of picturing me in the fetal position every time I took a stance on something relating to current events back in 2010 and 2011.  It sends me into laughter to recount.  I'm not kidding.  I would get neurotic over my posts every-time-I-published.  Even if only a smallish group of right wing libertarian, strict interpreters of the constitution were reading.  I'd like to think I stretched my comfort zone on the path toward self-improvement with each article or opinion.  Maybe not.  I clearly had some pent up stuff to express back then. No wonder I'm divorced.  No, seriously.  

Audacity of Compassionate Conservatism

As I have some extra time on my hands to do some self-exploration, I'm happy to report the following as I continue to venture outside my comfort zone:

1.  I'm suddenly noticing the pattern (isn't this 90% of the battle and path toward healing it?).

2.  I'm now detached from it enough to look at it as something that happens separate from myself, and can observe it from outside my body as it's happening (have you ever had a dream where you are observing the scene outside your body?  I haven't...but I've heard about it).

3.  I'm wondering how this occasional self-hatred affects my relationships with others, specifically intimate ones.  

4.  Do others I interact with experience episodes of self-hatred, and if so - are they mirroring me?  How can I diffuse it in others when I see it?  

I ran out to Sugarhouse this Friday night and picked up this best seller on vulnerability and its relationship to shame:


It just so happens this is the book club book my female friends from church are currently reading.  I plan to devour this.  Right now.  Along with some Godiva.... and maybe some Coke.... and maybe some Ellie Goulding on the Bose. 

I either need a life partner who is as creatively crazy on their innards as I am, or is sufficiently anchored enough to let me be a little nutso sometimes in my vulnerability ~ and still love me.... are you out there?

Ciao-ka-delic...

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Dating with Children

* Disclaimer:     I received some nice notes in my inbox from yesterday's post and I felt prompted to lead with this disclaimer today...   This blog is not to glamorize divorce or dating.  I feel marriage and families are the best platforms to work through our junk in the trunk.  I worked very hard over the past few years to keep my marriage and family together.  Sometimes I think these things can actually be contagious, so please do not allow my writing to somehow inspire you to fracture your family.  I haven't let readers a window into my suffering and instead expressed it through silence and a setting down of the quill.  Before this week, my last post was in May...  



Today I wanted to write about dating with children because I've had many inquiries about it.  If you've followed me at all, you know by now that I have homeschooled them for eight years.  What this means is that we spend A LOT of time together.  We know each other in ways I would not if they were in a bricks and mortar educational place.  I'm an expert at how each of them learns.  I know most of their secrets.  They know most of mine.  I'm so blessed to have decided to carve this path out for myself and them.  It's forever changed us and added a richness and depth to our relationships.


How does this affect their presence around my dating?  When I make any major parenting decisions (birthing at home, breastfeeding, vaccination, home education, athletics), I like to read and hear from a variety of voices on the matter... then, I typically make some major -against the grain, off-the-conveyor-belt decision that always always turns out best for my family.  On dating with children.... I've read a plethora of articles on the subject.  Articles from professionals, articles from divorcees.  It's kind of like the vaccination debate...I think if one more person passes judgement on the way another parents, I'm going to punch them in the face.  What matters is the end result.. that we have self-aware kids who turn into adults who love to learn, and are engaged with and productive in society in a meaningful way.  That's my mission, anyway, and hopefully a path to happiness for them.  

My kids are highly involved with my culling process of men right now at the surface level.  Here is a primer on online dating... In a given month, I may have 3,000 men viewing my profile - the site lets you know who views you... Out of that ~ maybe 30 will decide to actually contact me.   Out of that, I may only find one or two in a given month that I'm interested in allowing a pursuit of me and even after that, issues come up early in dating that cause you to start the process all over again!  It's a total numbers game.  I may as well have some laughs about it all with the children if they are going to see me on the screen a little more than normal.  We DO have some giggle moments where we are doubled over laughing through it all.  It's taken the online dating thing from something that I might have felt should be kept underground to something I can have a lot of fun with and enjoy with them like Madden Xbox!  Speaking of X-Box, the kids are contemplating creating my own Madden football team of fallen date partners who either by their choice or mine opted not to continue on.  We give them their own jersey with their name on it and create a body type and look, and then play football with them.  It's funny stuff.  My kids have a sense of humor.

No one has met my children yet.  This will be another threshold to cross.  My children will know that when they meet someone, this person has been highly selected and culled from the haystack to get to this point, but it won't mean anything but dinner, or breakfast or whatever is happening at that moment.  It will be my responsibility at that point to ensure that neither my children nor the man who meets them expects anything other than that first fist bump, high five or whatever awkward thing they all choose to do to greet each other, while I step into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase or something.



At this point, the kids have only a superficial list of criteria for a man I am dating.  I'm sure they will expand upon this in the future.  I've actually left a couple big ones off this list because...well...not all things are for sharing!  Some of their criteria I can live with and some, well... may need some loosening up as time goes on, but for now....I'll let them have all the power they want in the process...  Examples are:


* Good mormon Utah hair (Utah men have some seriously amazing hair out here)
* Be able to throw a spiral with a football
* Love football and sports
* Have a testimony of Jesus Christ and be active in the Church (yes, this is important to the children!)
* Drive a truck is a plus but not required....

Do they already sound like little employers seeking a new hire?  Is there learning for them in this?  Yes!   We are already plotting for that first meet and greet that will eventually occur.  I'm asking them to visualize what that might look like to them and how that will make them feel and to remind them that although they are not quite in the driver's seat, they sure are co-pilots with a set of controls.  It's amazing how assuring this is and how relaxed they are becoming.  They seem to totally trust me and this process and have a knowing that their lives are going to eventually be enhanced because of it and because of who is allowed to venture into their sacred space.  They feel really safe, even after a difficult few years.

Ciao!

There have been over 16,000 visits to my blog since inception without promoting it at all, so I'd like to have a little fun with this and see what I can generate if I push it out more!  Feel free to help by moving it along if you see something of value or entertaining.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

The Dating Game Show




A little over a month ago, I reluctantly ventured out into the dating world.  I went out to dinner, breakfast and coffeehouses with a small handful of men ~ahem~ about one a week for four weeks.  It felt like more of a social experiment for myself.  It was awkward going out after being married for so many years.  But it felt amazing to give myself permission to move on and step into my future, by being present...

It felt like a little bit a lot too soon...so with some *divine intervention*, I brought the entire operation to a screaming halt a couple of weeks ago to regroup and gather myself.  A still small voice (not really) via text knocked some sense into me that things were moving a bit hasty for my timing of just getting out of my marriage.

{Deep breath...smoothing my hair with my hands... smoothing my blouse...smoothing my skirt...slight smile...another deep breath...bigger smile, maybe a giggle..}

  Ok, I'm thinking I'm almost ready to give it another go.

I met some really interesting and accomplished and even some mysterious people in that first month...But FIRST, let me just say... it's really too bad that the fella I kinda wanted to get to know the most was the FIRST date I had.  I was totally awkward, in a stupid sort of way.  Like... a teenager who is maybe out past her curfew and shy and wondering if she wore the right thing or is saying the right stuff or should she even be there at all... Or another analogy is when a teenager is starstruck in the presence of a rock star or famous person.  I know that sounds nonsensical, but that's how I felt on my first date.  I was kinda...a nervous mess.  Maybe it didn't show on the outside, but on the inside...I was a friggin' pile of excrement.  Elated, grateful to be there, wondering if I looked okay and sounded okay.  Really puerile stuff... the problem is, rather than really being present and getting to know this individual to explore if he had a potential place with me, I was too caught up in my own innards that were a bit tied up in knots to really stay present.  I guess it had to be a great guy that would cause me to feel a quarter my age (that would be approximately ten years old) for me to realize that when the stakes seem high, that's precisely the time to really get present and to carry with me the "take me as I am or leave me" sort of attitude and "tell me a lot more about YOU." rather than put too much thought into how likable I might be.  The fact that I had to go through these ridiculous mental gymnastics at all reflects on my state of mind and heart after leaving and grieving a failed marriage.  I guess everyone has to go through a first date post divorce just once.

So onward I ventured with more dating with some variety to flex those emotional "muscles" that have been suppressed for a long time.  I'm really pleased with where I ended up emotionally and mentally after just a month.  I think I have struck the perfect balance for me of being open, honest and vulnerable yet comfortable and confident....enough to walk from the people who are not quite right for me or have timing that is not in sync or rhythm with mine.  This feels like finding a needle in a haystack.




Maybe instead...this should become my mission:





With the progression of each date, I felt myself get more and more comfortable in my own skin, more comfortable talking to men outside my marriage, and comfortable making a little game out of it.  Not a lot...just a little.  Since I failed to secure a second date invitation right away out of the first first date, and maybe also the second,  I made it a mission by my third and fourth to secure second date invites before we left.  SCORE.  Did I go on the second dates?  Nope.  I was just after the invites.  I'm starting to get the hang of this and how this rolls.

I did feel like a therapist on one of the dates.  It felt kinda heavy after the year I had myself.  Made me realize they were not quite ready to date...and maybe I wasn't either... I think I inspired one of my dates to return to his wife and children. Wouldn't that qualify me as an #epicfail of a date?...No seriously, I think he should go back to his wife and kids...

One date flung the F-word probably half a dozen times and actually, may or may not have mentioned something about sex tapes at least once or twice.... I quietly sipped my hot cocoa and gazed into his eyes with some seductive batting of eyelashes and I shamefully toyed with not revealing the extent of my IQ...because remember, this was the date that I had a mission to secure the second date before we parted ways....odd what success sometimes equates between some combinations of men and women.

Two men invited me to the exact same location.  I kinda wondered what the staff/baristas might think of me, always popping in and out with different men.

"Hey, this place wasn't my idea either time - but by now you know that I roll with my hot cocoa with WHOLE milk AND whipped cream, thanks.  No, not to go.  We're staying, so I'll take that cute mug with the funny handle you gave me a few days ago, okay?"  

Next time I get invited there, I will have to wear a hat or very big sunglasses or alter my hair color again.


I played with a couple of dating sites... It was fun and interesting to notice the change in levels of page views converted to actual contact via email when I tweaked my profile summary just a bit.  It seems people actually read the stuff.  In one instance, I might have mentioned that my ideal Hollywood movie couple was the couple from '300' as an experiment to see what happened.  Wow, did that trigger some serious noise.  I eventually took that bait down.  It occurred to me that there is a really hot sex scene in that movie that probably most of the guys are thinking of...meanwhile, I was thinking honestly of the relational dynamics between the couple.  #marsvenus



One dating site was mormon-specific which I liked better than the main-stream one, as I decided that it makes the most sense to seek a partner who shares my faith.  Within FIVE minutes of me logging into the site for the first time, I was sexted...YES, I said SEXTED...by a guy supposedly an active member of the Church.  He started chatting about how much hotter it was where he was in Oklahoma... I asked about the weather and he immediately started talking about taking clothes off and what was I wearing!?  This all in the third line of his chat! I think my hasty response was "not taking the bait.." and closed the window.   I almost bailed on the site all together right then and there, but decided that hopefully that was likely an isolated event and I would not be deterred from my intention to meet new people.  I did not seek or accept any dates yet on this site because...well I have a few more weeks to go until my legal paperwork / ducks are in order and I'm officially divorced and the kind of man I seek would actually have a problem with that not completely resolved.  I have the blessing of the children's father...both stated and implied - so I feel good to go, but it's not all about me, is it?

It has been about two weeks since I let my profiles sit dormant to give it a rest and refocus on my children and myself.  I've been literally and physically living as a lone adult for ten months and metaphorically and physically alone for almost two years.  I am over the grief of my marriage and have found lots of joy in embracing my family as a single head of household.  I occasionally have short pangs of loneliness for adult conversation and male companionship that I hope to find again one day.

Funny that just as those pangs set in tonight, a girlfriend and neighbor sent me a random "checking in" text.  I thanked her for the contact and told her that she had just caught me in one of those "moments".  She said "I knew it! Interesting what the Spirit speaks".  Yes.. it is interesting.  And I totally trust it.  I trust it in myself and I implicitly  trust the whisperings of the Spirit in others who  receive it.  I think the Spirit and I will have some fun together through this dating-thing!

Ciao!